The Chronicles of a Madman or a Crazies' Tale
by Broken Saint of the Lost God
Summary: this is the story, or perhaps the ramblings of one of Rifts more bizzar inhabitants a Crazy by the name of Tom  read and be in awe of his trials and tribulations, see him laugh, love, then laugh again, point and giggle at   his fear of the dark!
1. Chapter One or So it begins, err sort of

The Chronicles of a Madman or a Crazies' Tale

Alot of people have alot of things to say about the antics, actions and overall acts performed by a Crazy, most of these things are definitely of a negative nature, and are usually followed closely by a mob of well armed and (sometimes) well meaning people bent on driving said crazy from thier midst. Wait! what is a Crazy you ask? Well my friend you are in luck ain't ya you see before you rests the genuine article, a true blue crazy, wait now, don't be climbing up the walls or nothing I'm not gonna hurt ya, there ya go sit your butt down, you don't need to be getting all worried you got questions and i got answers so lets get this show on the road.

Yes, Crazies are a bit, ah, touched in the head, we got the moniker for a pretty good reason, yes even me, no i ain't going to tell you how or why i am crazy just that i can remember when i wasn't, thats all you need to know.

Most Crazies don't start off nuts but the magnets in our heads are a sure and steady madness generator, doesn't matter how strong you think your will is how tough you think you are eventually, one day, you just start to notice things are a bit off and it only gets worse, but the trade off is worth it if only cause you can make the world a bit better for everyone else, selfless ain't I?

The list of craziness is a loooong one i once read a report on our kind it was... disheartening to say the least, if your lucky you only get a weird zannyness or hyperactive wacko, who's afraid of tea kettles and tractor tires, and wont cross the street on Tuesdays unless its raining. Its the unlucky ones who have it bad...i don't really want to talk about the unlucky ones, this is no place for them to be mentioned, if i tell you some of my quirks will you drop it for now?

Alright, I'm scared of the dark, like REALLY scared, i don't know what it is i can flip a truck with my right arm and punch through a brick wall like its Styrofoam, but shut off the lights and a squeal like a four year old staring at grandma's bra.

Yeah thats right the good bits, heh sorry i get side-tracked pretty easily, ah now lets see, thanks to the magnets in my gourd i can do things Olympic athletes have wet dreams about, i can sprint thirty five miles in under an hour, dead lift two thousand pounds, probably more but i never really tried to push myself, pain tolerance up the wazu, not to mention reflexes that would scare a ninja, i can hear like a bat, sniff out sneaky sorts like a hound dog, and read a stop sign from over two miles away, not to mention i can kick up the old healing trance whenever i get banged up, never needing stitches is something you come to appreciate before long.

Hmmm how do you become a crazy or why do you become a crazy? Me? I wanted to be a hero, heh, kind of a laugh isn't it, if my brain had been just a little bit off i would have been a vegetable, or worse, yeah trust me there is a worse and no i ain't gonna get into it. To become a Crazy you have to have the cash or know a guy who needs someone to do his dirty work for him i lucked out and managed to sign on with a guard detachment in a fiefdom out west they had a cyberdoc who was willing to hook me up spent two years day and night running lines and keeping the boarders safe from all kinds of fucked up shit, really it could have been worse i could have wound up in some burb slum shaking down old ladies to pay my debt with a bomb in my skull cuddled up with the magnets that make me super human, yeah i ain't ashamed to call myself "superhuman" i can outperform some suits of power armor that makes me super human in my books. Anyway got distracted again, the dock sticks a couple dozen of these teeny tiny magnets all over you brain that adjust and stimulate the brain meats, killing pain and jacking up the adrenalin and growth hormones until your as beefy as me, and you can shut up right now sir i am one hundred and eighty pounds thats beefy damnit! The first year is the best by far i figure, i remember stubbing my toe for the first time after the surgery didn't feel a thing and ended up breaking the leg off the chair, i laughed, and scared one of the nurses too, apparently i was pretty quiet for a now crazyman, the appetite takes some getting used to any prolonged activity like say running the whole day leave you feeling pretty ravenous, though the doc gave me a whole mess of vitamin tablets i like to save them for emergencies otherwise i just eat six meals a day and I'm good to go.

The first fight, oooooh boy the first fight, whew i still get the shivers remembering it, four guys had been harassing some of the surrounding farms for protection from some deebee or another demanding food and ammo and what have you i got sent out to deal with them kind of an example if you will, anyway i stroll up to the farmstead just after they arrive and start demanding this and that i never let them finish, didn't even break stride with the first one, you ever hit a mail box with a base ball bat while doing thirty in a pick up truck well my fist hit him a bit harder than you can swing a bat, admittedly i went a bit overboard, cause i ran the whole way to this farmstead ten miles from the city proper only took me twenty minutes, and i slowed down after my hit connected he didn't even seem e coming and his head was in pieces all over my gauntlet, his buddies didn't even know what hit him until i stopped he didn't even hit the ground before i drew my pistol, they hadn't quite gotten over the fact thier leader wasn't talking anymore so i stowed my pistol (i was new to the whole super soldier thing sue me) when they finally started yelling and carrying on i shot one of them dead so they would at least know what direction to aim, so anyway i actually laughed while i watched them pull thier own weapons frankly if it had just been me by myself, I'd have let them shoot first, but i was on the job they got thier weapons at least pointed at me before i popped thier heads like balloons (particle beam weapons do that) then i just booked it back to the city proper bingo bango first fight never felt like more of a god since, though sadly my next fight would be much less fun, met my first juicer then, it was a bad day, anyway i think out time is up for now, i best be on my way see you later Victor.

-interview with Thomas Maclandon a Crazy-

As i stepped out of the bar into the falling rain of the burbs i couldn't help but feel like everyone was looking at me, might of been the fact i just had a deep conversation with a fake fern, might be the fact i am carrying enough firepower to level a building, or maybe a combination of the two either way at least the crowd gave me plenty of room when i stepped onto the sidewalk my combat boots squelching as they caught on the pitted concrete outside the Cat's Pajamas night club, the street lights managed to grant me little islands of safety between each death defying leap from the shadowy voids between them, call me a risk taker if you will but i get a weird thrill teasing the shadows like that makes me feel alive gets the old adrenalin pumping, the few people out here at this time of night are staring again, i think I'm thinking out loud again, ah well what are they gonna do about it.

As i land on a particularly dim puddle of yellow light i pull off my pack and light up my electric lamp creating my own safe haven against the clawing shade, and decide that perhaps i should find a place to lay my head for a few hours, Ma peter's boarding house is the place to stay if your super powered and don't like a whole lot of people crowding you one hundred credits gets this crazyman a cozy little cot in a nice comfy cell for the night with my lamp keeping the shadows at bay i manage to pass out for a while.

Woke up around, well my watch said four but it was still dark out so i question its validity(its racist), my light still burning cheerily away keeping the void at bay, i reached out and affectionately patted her, my little angel of light.

Ma Peters is the best place in the world for us supers, the rooms rent out four hours at a time, free shower, big breakfast (mostly 'taters and eggs), and a friendly smile when she sees you, best demon i ever met, (Ma Peters is an eight foot ogre btw) anywho after breakfast i wander out the door a hundred bucks lighter in the ole wallet, so cleaner and with a full belly off i go looking to replace that hundred bucks and hopefully find a bit of extra to catch a snack later, four in the morning and its still busy people going to and fro off to work or home or to the bar or chatting up a whore, me i have bid-ness.

Walking down the litter strewn streets, past the darkened windows and the very alive alleys full of shadows and sinister smiles, i hate the dark, someone makes thier tentacled way out of the shadows all lizard faced with writhing razored tentacles, pretty sure this one is real.

Everything happens all at once, my heart trip-kicks in my chest pumping adrenaline and endorphins and all sorts of wonder juice, stuff of the gods and its in MY veins feels kinda like eating all the chocolate pudding (I mean ALL of it), the world slows right down i can see each and every rain drop sparkling in my lamp light, i can count the number of teeth in the lizard bastards mouth and i can see clearly the slick grease like blood on each of his four tendrils coming my way, hmm nearly forgot about those what with all the nice scenery i have four options available to me at this time, First option: i can back up a couple steps and draw my rifle couple of shots from the ole particle beam rifle would probably do wonders for his complexion, Second option: i could go for the vibro blade in my belt, I'm willing to lay odds that fourteen inches of MDC ceramic can make short work of the porno prods coming my way, Option three(my favorite): close in right up in his face and stick my boot in his mouth maybe knock loose some of those teeth, and the last one i guess i could always make a break for it. Hmmm i like my knife and its not as expensive to use as my rifle, the ole vibro blade doesn't even slow down when it hits those scaly psudopods, which makes me regret not kicking him in the teeth, its a quick succession of short precise swipes that effectively castrates this urban predator, i stow the blade while it registers the loss of its tentacles, maybe it'll back down but probably not it still has a snoot full of teeth i should have kicked in ah well hind sight and all that i give it time to vent, it screams an thrashes and gets its sticky purple blood everywhere (of course not on me i can dodge a blood splatter in my sleep, sides i just had a shower i am not going for blood flecked esthetic, i like to be presentable when i go job hunting) all the noise and howling does attract attention sadly its the wrong kind, and seriously it just figures that the fuzz would show up the first time i get into trouble in the burbs and me without my cap on to hide my studs (the caps over my magnets incase you weren't paying attention) anyway the three of them show up rifles readied and shouting orders in English and Spanish saying "get on the ground now" and "drop your weapons" well this keeps up for a few seconds until i raise my lantern a little higher and reveal my de-tentacled friend lurking in the shadows of the alley. Freaky deebee's take precedent over a single peaceful crazy man like yours truly, they totally freak, me i try to tell him that he is squishy but he starts hissing and jabbering and waving around an ID card but they don't have time for that he is armed and dangerous all bleeding and such so they waste no time in opening up on him with thier laser rifles they do alot of damage to the building behind him thats for sure pop him like a blister, and as for me i start moving before they even have a bead on the poor bastard (hey i can feel sorry for all the crazy dimensional horrors i want to so meh!) I'm half way down the block by the time they take out a corner of the three story brick apartment complex and make swiss cheese of the two after it, and the four bedroom house just past those, infact i catch sight of thier blasts careening across the street infront of me as i round the corner, slicing into another building i lose track of where the shots go after that, too busy running from the law.

Now you see us poor neglected, oft' misunderstood super humans, we have a bad rep, every time a crazy or a juicer, or a 'Borg, or something goes on one little rampage, or takes out a small town, or levels a building, it casts shall we say a poor light on the rest of us, they start throwing around hurtful labels like "wantonly destructive" or "dangerous to the general populace" or "unstoppable hidden menace amongst us" (my personal fave), now me i personally have NEVER destroyed an entire building (by myself or without the aid of explosives), so i find these labels personally offensive but it does save me a bit of hassle when it comes down to crunch time with a bunch of squishies (the unaugmented amongst us) they typically don't want to pick a fight with someone who can knock thier heads off thier shoulders before they can draw thier guns, now where was i, oh yeah the law, well the coalitions states all four or five of them have a certain...dislike for us what can threaten entire squads of thier "highly trained" soldiers to the point that wandering around thier towns unregistered (of which i am most certainly not) is a crime punishable by immediate execution, hell i have heard tell of them popping us augmented sorts on sight out of principle, a somewhat questionable tactic i find, as even a lightly armored Borg is gonna shrug off a direct hit from a plasma cannon (i know i have tangled with one of those too, heh i get around) anyway registration is a bad idea but the burbs are an easy place to find work for one such as myself so here i am.

Anywho i clear out of the hot zone in under a minute carrying around my little lamp makes hiding from them kinda hard but I'd rather fight my way through thier number than give her up so yeah i do it the hard way running hell mell through the streets and alleys scaring up drunks and hookers at nearly every intersection before finally ducking into the only safe haven around, the sweet and lovely Tanica's tavern(nice name huh?) Gracie the bouncer was there to greet me and by greet i mean grab me by my head and lift me off the ground before i got two steps into the bar, its hard to startle a Juicer.

Wait, WHAT! you don't know what a juicer is? Where the hell have you been living the Moon? agh cripes, ah ok, a juicer is another type of enhanced soldier that relies on a constant feed of a particular chemical cocktail that builds and strengthens muscles deadens pain and keeps the body going to an almost unreasonable level, they are faster stronger and more endurent than any natural creature, much as i am loathe to say it they are tougher than me, faster too, i have seen them dodge bullets from a mounted machine gun while strolling up to the emplacement at a casual walk only to collect the still firing weapon from its mount and turn it on the soldiers firing it, to date i have never successfully defeated a juicer in a stand up fight. On the flip side its rare for a Juicer to live longer than five years, so its a fair trade i guess.

Anywho Gracie had me by the head at this point in our tale, and hefted me a foot off the ground my legs still trying to run while my feet were off the ground, she starts talking calm as can be while holding my hundred and eighty pound fully armored and armed self off the ground one handed while resting her hand on the vibro-sword hanging off her belt.

All right nut job, whats your hurry? (to which i respond) Aheh had a bit of a run-in with a rather angry/hungry/weird Deebee and the black lobsters (da fuzz) kinda didn't like our discussion and figured they would shed thier own kind of light on the matter, i didn't stick around to see the resolution. Her arched eyebrow (purple and pierced with three gold rings)told me that i better slide her some green if i wanted to get into the club, I was pleasantly surprised when she just dropped me and shoved me into the bar proper without another word guess a straight up answer was worth the trouble after all.

I suppose i should describe Gracie (i seem to be describing everything else just wait till i slip into the men's room, eh? *wink-wink* Nudge Nudge*) as Juicers go i would (at a looong distance) use the word "unimpressive" standing in at five eight and maybe one seventy, she is svelte for one of us super humans, all muscle and bone and sharp angles with wide eyes and carefully plucked brows and a long pony tail dyed the same color as her brows a short sturdy little package wrapped in a custom suit of MDC body armor that probably weighs nearly as much as she does her arms are uncovered revealing the tubes of her drug harness and thier contact points (i hear new models have sub dermal feed lines from the drug harness, scary not knowing they are a Juicer until they knock your block off) judging from her complexion i would guess at a Hispanic or perhaps Indian heritage but its always hard for me to tell. Oh crap she is looking at me funny, Grin! Grin! and pray i am not thinking outloud again, oh thank god she is smiling back, I think its time to fade into the crowd now best not to make her irate.

Ah the jewel of the burbs Tanica's, strong booze for strong patrons, also the furniture is made of metal and mesh, the glasses bullet proof glass, the entertainment is all caged off from the rest of us some kind of screaming metal band i cant see the logo through the crowd, hmm getting the evil eye from some of them guess they want me to turn off my lamp HA! yeah right not happening, Tanica oh dear sweet Tanica soothing temptress of the cups my heart it sings for you! i can see her now six foot four, beetled brow glaring holes in my forehead, that bowler hat hiding the bald spot beneath, no other girl in the world for me, its a dance to slip through the packed crowd of a bar full of Juicers, Borgs of all shapes and sizes and the odd Deebee so powerful they feel at home amongst us power houses, but soon, oh not soon enough but soon i have snuggled upto the bar between a nine foot titan and some kind of lizard man who smells like a muffler (seriously whats with the lizards today ugh).

Uh oh she is mad her bionic eye is glowing(or does it always do that?) Crap! they're staring at me I'm thinking out loud again, Double Crap! did it again, huh the titans was a girl who knew.

I should probably note that after that umm poorly (and unconsciously) stated notion that the Titan juicer (Bigger stronger slower Juicer) decided to give me a gentle tickle with her fist, a Titan Juicer's fist is like a battering ram fired from a cannon that is in turn fired from a cannon in short they can swing fast and hard(can turn a tank into scrap metal in short order well if they have gloves on at leasts) but me I'm faster maybe not stronger (HA! not even close) but a fair bit faster so while her fist is rocketing at me i am already ducking under it and introducing her ribcage to my fist, hmm feels kind of like punching a padded brick wall, and judging by the sudden absence of that exhaust stink the lizard that was standing behind me has vacated his seat either under his own power or propelled by my good friend here, i manage to bring my other fist into this party before she draws back her other arm to splatter me. Soon i am backing up dodging blows that would destroy an armored car as she roars at me like a bull calling me all sorts of hurtful things i personally don't care for the term "knob head" i like my cranial studs thank you, i respond to her insults by saying her ass is nearly as big as her head, i don't think she cared for that cause suddenly she starts smashing furniture, thats a bad sign i figure so i go for my vibro blade hoping that its long enough to get through that hide of hers cause if she clips me its going to hurt alot (you know if it doesn't kill me) just as i start powering up the ole cutter Gracie shows up and starts laying into the titan with her stun baton (think really big tazer/police baton combo) now while i am holding my own (i say I'm holding my own damn it!) Grace is so fast the titan may as well not be moving admittedly i lose sight of her a couple times behind the titan but soon the giant's injuries start to pile up and she settles down before things get too ugly, shoots me one last ball shriveling look and stalks out of the bar, skipping out on her tab i might add.

Gracie is staring at me like I'm crazy (haHA!) but soon shakes her head following the giant out the door, me i head back to the bar Tanica's eye is no longer glowing (I take it as a good sign) as i prop up the fallen barstools and order a beer, Tanica simply shakes her head and pours me a mug of tepid amber glory and slides it to me, I'm two loong pulls in when she beans me in the head. You Dumb son of a bitch! she coos affectionately(ok she snarls it but hey its all pillow talk baybee) why is it you always ALWAYS start shit in my bar? And always with the big ones, pick on a squishy damn it , they don't bust up my bar like the big ones. Aw but Tani my sweet (I shoot her the ole big brown eyes) I didn't know i was thinking out loud again, you know i have problems, i tap one of my studs at this. she calms down enough to atleast put the bat down(did i mention she hit me with a bat, coulda sworn i did) she sighs and leans in close enough for us to talk like semi-civilized people.

So why are you here making trouble with the big kids and wrecking my house you *are* paying for the furniture you helped wreck and settling her tab you know, its the least you could do, she glares at me pointedly the old bionic eye glowing once more for effect i am sure, sadly as it turns out my wallet was not upto the task still she took me for what i had and i was forced to nurse what was left of my beer that night, but i am getting ahead of myself, shortly after fleecing em of every penny i had, she settles in and waits expectantly for me to start talking, so i explained my lack of funds and general trouble with the local law and she gave me a patient stare as i smiled hopefully, Tanica usually has an ear for the sort of work us super humans gravitate towards, sadly she just gave me a stony stare before saying with a nasty sort of grin that i would soon learn to hate, are you still afraid of the dark?

Whelp thats my first chapter didn't think I'd actually get one out since i doubt my longest story, written previously was half this length anywho. Rate review FLAME THE F**K out of me i beg you criticism only helps me improve my writing so any help will do me wonders.


	2. The particulars of Tomfrequent changes

Thomas Maclandon Race: Human Age: 23

Occupation: Crazie (M.O.M. Super Soldier) (Lv5) Alignment: Unscrupulous

Physical Description- a man of average height and very firm build, with short cut brown hair that reveals his locator studs, and eyes the color of mud, his visible skin is travel tanned andbares the marks of many battles, he walks with an almost unnatural vigor and to all others seems lost in his own little world, periodically he babbles out his (sometimes very rude) opinions as though he started thinking out loud, this usually lands him in a mess of trouble with those around him.

PS:28 PE:20 PP:22 PB:10 IQ:13 ME:15 MA:13 SPD:34

Crazy Abilities  
-Augmented Strength- can comfortably carry 280 lbs and can lift with effort ten times that.

-Augmented Endurance- can operate with full efficiency for up to three days without sleep or significant rest, typically needs only four hours of sleep to remain comfortable. He is able to hold his breath ten times longer than an unsegmented human, and keep a ridiculous pace with little difficulty.

-Augmented Speed- can run at a steady 30-MPH and maintain this pace for up to twenty minutes before needing to catch his breath.

-Augmented Reaction and Reflexes- can duck, dodge, twist, contort, hurl and otherwise move himself out of the way of most attacks with an inhuman speed and grace is able to minimize damage from explosions by tucking and rolling whilst moving away from the blast and can even dodge bullets, with modest success, it is surprisingly difficult to get the drop on him in a fight though this has much to do with the following ability.

-Enhanced Senses

-Sight- Perfect 20/20 vision, and exceptional long range vision, can recognize a face or read a small sign from Up to two miles away.

-Hearing- can hear a whisper or a twig snapping under some ones boot up to 300ft away, his incredible hearing allows him to react to danger that others might fail to notice.

-Sense of Smell- can instantly recognize odors, recognize a person by scent, and even track by scent, provided the trail isn't old or overpowered by local sources.

-Sense of taste- can identify ingredients, freshness of ingredients and even unusual changes in known recipes, such as poisons, drugs, etc.

-Sense of touch- can recognize even very minor changes in texture and pattern as well as changes in tempature and terrain.

-Enhanced Healing and recovery time- On top of being nearly impervious to pain (no amount of physical pain can impair a crazy) he naturally heals and recovers from illness and injury at twice the normal rate of the average healthy human, this is without the aid of his Bio-Regeneration ability.

-Bio-Regeneration- this is perhaps the most well known ability of a crazy, by entering an intense meditative state, Thomas is able to increase his natural healing to supernatural levels closing wounds, mending broken bones, and soothing away bruises in minutes. A Crazy could be shot up, stabbed, burnt and blown up one day and by morning chances are he doesn't have a scratch on him, this is something that even Juicers can appreciate.

-Minor Psionics (Thomas is unaware of his Psionic abilities)

Speed Reading- Able to read 30 pages a minute, and retain this knowledge.

Sixth Sense- Is able to react to danger almost before it has happened.

Total Recall- essentially is possessed of a photographic memory.

-Madness (the cost of perfection)  
Nyctophobia (Intense fear of the dark)  
Trauma Induced Migraines at the sight of magic  
Frenzy (Intense anger escalates into a berserker rage)

Current Weapons Available (Subject to change as lot improves/Sucks)  
-Vibro-Blade- this fourteen inch, single edged knife has a straight blade ideal for either slashing open a foe or stabbing into a heavily armored foe, this weapon is fitted with a harmonic generator that allows the weapon to slice and stab fractions of a millimeters at speeds unimaginable, making every cut or stab incredibly powerful, its MDC construction makes sharpening unnecessary, and allows it to handle the punishment that an augmented lunatic like Tom can put it through. (this is our heroes' favorite weapon)

-NG-P7(Northern Gun Particle Beam Rifle) This rifle is a mainstay amongst anti-armor infantry in many military engagements, it is a large heavy powerful weapon unwieldy to most but its raw power makes it ideal against most robot vehicles, dragons, and Deebees of a mega damage persuasion. Its magazine holds eight blasts in a fully charged E-clip, it has a range of over a mile, and weighs in at twenty one pounds.

-Silver Plated Dagger- this ten inch blade is plated with polished silver, a must have when faced with vampires and many other supernatural threats.

-Custom .357 Magnum Revolver- made of MDC ceramics and usually loaded with silver, this is Tommy's second favorite weapon, he usually carries it openly when wandering through towns. He usually carries twelve silver bullets for the odd instance when they are needed, otherwise he has no less then two dozen hot loaded rounds, just incase he needs to pick off a distant trouble maker and he doesn't wish to take out whatever is behind him, and behind that.

-Reinforced Juicer Assassin Plate Armor- an off the shelf suit of plate armor that has been reinforced with heavier plates and padding granting greater protection without sacrificing freedom of movement. The suit contains a chest/back/belly plating, shoulder guards, forearm guards(ideal for parrying), hip and shin guards. Though a helmet came with it, Thomas lost it in a rather hectic fight with a Skelebot.

-Other Gear- (5) NG-P7 E-clips fully charged, Vibro-Blade charge port, (My little Angel) Electric Lantern(fifty hour charge), Flashlight, Penlight, (4) Road Flares, (12) .357 magnum Silver bullets, (24) Hotloaded .357 magnum rounds, and other misc supplies(clothes, toiletries etc)  
Skills of note- precious little, able to use most firearms and edged weapons with devastating ability, can read and right English, use portable radios, operate a computer as well as your average person, but thats about it.


	3. Chapter Two or God Damnit Tanica!

As i said before, i would come to hate that nasty little smile and, so it holds true as i find myself out behind Tanica's with three other "people" who were down on their luck and needed/wanted cash, we were all hanging out in the little holding yard that Tani likes to store her empty kegs and crates in the mesh fence keeps most of the burb brats out but there are little splotches of graffiti here and there on the brickwork, my companions (for the moment) are a patchwork lot, a gang banger with a bright red Mohawk and several tattoos on his face that all but say, I'm a bad mutha fukka PLEASE DON'T HURT ME!, he has the most beautiful leather duster on all black and sleek fresh off the shelf if i were to guess, and a big ole plasma cannon hanging off his back, pair of pistols in his belt and a chest plate that looks to have been recently painted in a black and red tribal jag of some sort hard to see past all the bandoleers and buckles, i think he's doing this for a jump in rep or something.

Winner number one in our group is a rather annoyed looking woman with a mop of black beaded braids and a squeaky clean suit of plastic man armor the helmet under her arm and a rifle across her back the wilks laser pistol sits comfortably in a well used holster, her hand never strays more than eight inches from it she is currently scowling at me because once again i seem to have said all this out loud, crap!

Winner number two is the skinniest cyborg i have ever seen in my entire life, all black gloss less paint and no integral weapon mounts he has a head shaped like bullet and no visible optics, kind of unnerving, the weapons on his person look alien all big barrels and blocky mags, almost cartoonish really but they look neat, never seen the like of it, though i have to say not impressed with the lack of armor, i always thought borgs were supposed to be walking tanks, meh!

And last, but not least, me.

What are we doing out here? you ask, well Tani my sweet, evil, utterly heartless, love has need of a certain something, to be gathered from a certain someone, who must remain underground for reasons that we just don't need to know about, how utterly horrid.

Little Known Fact: Crazies have a fantastic sense of smell and hearing.

Well Known Fact: Tunnels magnify noise to truly awful levels, noises like oh say gunfire which is already loud.

So here is the formula kiddies: fantastic hearing + really loud gunfire + enclosed spaces = bad

Anywho lesson time over, the entrance to the "underground" is less than auspicious, the manhole cover before us being the first of several "doorways" we would need to pass through, the tunnel works beneath the city are less than hospitable if you happen to be a peaceful sort, so i guess we are kind of lucky in that regard. We are however unlucky that our cyborg companion is not a touch more intimidating, as a rule of thumb Intimidation saves ammo, but then again ammo is meant to be spent, no?

So to get things underway i grab the little holes of the manhole cover and pop the ole cork, she comes away smooth and quiet(guess I'm not the first to pass through this portal *wink wink*), all joking aside its dark as sin down there, a great black nothing eager to devour all that is light and good in the world, well good thing i have my little angel as she starts singing her bright but silent song driving away the dark, like a carrot stick wielding mom, scares away a fat kid, I decide to take the plunge with a bit of glowing help to ease the transition I drop down into the tunnel its a fair fall an easy fifteen feet before i hit ankle deep sludge, my splash echoes uncannily like a wet fart in a movie theater.

Its at this point i notice the ladder, and the truly monstrous rat beyond said ladder, the words "is your name Splinter?" leave my mouth in short order, it crouches low and hisses at me like a massive leaky tire its long thick fur matted with filth and its single red eye reflecting my light, this is not a knife moment by any means so i go for the ole rifle hoping against hope that it doesn't eat energy beams. As the fun sized gerbil from hell readies to leap at me, my now favorite teammate lands between me and mighty mouse in all his bionic bullet headed glory, splashing me with gunk as he lands, and startling the giant rat who seems to think better of the situation and backs up still hissing, i decide to be proactive for a change and rest my rifle on the tin woodsman's shoulder lining up the irons on that big ole maw and squeezing off a shot as bullet head reaches to grab my weapon.

Ever pop a water balloon full of tomato sauce and stale croutons in your parents bedroom, no?

Just me then? ah hell, the effect is very similar and somehow less horrible as it turns out Bullethead (as he shall now be called) is a good six inches taller and a full four inches broader than myself, and makes an excellent bit of cover in a pinch i manage to get him between the mess and me in short order and avoid having a much steeper dry cleaning bill.

After the whole "giant rat" fiasco was sorted out it was time to check the map, good news: we don't have to wade through giant rate puree, badnews: we need to go upstream, so with a heavy heart and filthy boots we begin to march, the first to crack is the gang banger who just starts bitching "oh it smells, oh this better not be shit, oh its leaking into my boots, if the crazy doesn't stop talking shit about me I'm gonna shoot him ...crap" well as it turns out he isn't stupid just a whiner as he doesn't attempt to out draw me, he does thankfully shut up for all of half an hour, its a boring, foul smelling trip upstream with only my lovely little lamp for light no one seems keen on shining a torch down any side passages or up towards the network of pipes above us, where there are many many rats by the way.

That the rats did not descend upon us to wreak bloody vengeance upon us for killing their fun sized overlord was one small blessing, another small blessing was when our ganger friend got shot in the face with a nice wholesome serving of buckshot courtesy of some jack ass off in a side tunnel THAT NO ONE BOTHERED CHECKING! (said that last bit out loud on purpose heheh) my ears were a ringing painfully after that lovely bit of gunplay, not ringing so loudly i didn't hear our shotgun wielding B.F.F. chambering another round from the left or see the shine off a couple of blades from the left or hear the hooting and jeering from down the tunnel as what must be an entire hill(tunnel)billy convention rolls down on us, I'd have taken a moment to enlighten my companions to this little tidbit or tactical data if i didn't have more pressing business, our shotgun toting friend had just finished cycling another round and was lining up his shot, I am already moving at this point (yes i can extrapolate and fight at the same time), I see him lining up on bullet head using the darkness as cover, I'm surprised he didn't shoot at me, glad of course, but surprised, not as surprised as he is when i close the distance before he can pull the trigger, I manage to yank the barrel towards the knife wielding guys on the other side of the main tunnel, another quick jerk and the gun deafens me for a few minutes, catches one of his buddies in the chest but still, not being able to hear in a fight is very bad.

Bullet head doesn't even bother going for his gun he just marches towards the group coming down the main tunnel, I think he wants to have a hoe down with the hill(tunnel)billys, and Beads she has her Wilk's in hand and lines the laser sight up with one of our knife wielding friends opposite the tunnel, but the man with the shooter is my priority, with a sharp pull i yank the weapon out of his hands, and promptly slap him in the head with his own gun, he drops like a sack of grapes, as Beads opens up on the knife boy/girl still advancing on her, his friend having died due to an overdose of buckshot, sadly my ears were still ringing or i might have known his buddy was dead/dying, Beads wastes no time drilling a fist sized hole in the crazy (this is me saying that) knife wielders face.

Bullethead isn't even half way down the tunnel still in the light of my little lamp (Beads is pretty quick for a squishy) i make my way back to Beads, must have startled her cause she starts turning with her Wilks leading the way i manage to catch the barrel before she makes a mistake she would later regret (FORESHADOWING!) I thrust the shotgun into her hands and nodded to the recently vacated side passages, she seemed to pick up on the need for cover even as the first few shots started splashing into the sludge one such shot found my back plate and actually rocked me forward a step, admittedly startled its perfectly understandable that i would snatch the shotgun out of Bead's hand and open fire up the tunnel screaming "COME GET ME YOU INBRED HICKS" I don't remember a whole lot after that, I do vaguely remember passing by Bullethead and running into a crowded place, i also remember swinging the shotgun around by its barrel, but everything else is a red haze.

I came too on a pile of bodies my arms and legs throbbing and my head feeling really fuzzy, Bullet head was standing over me with an assault rifle in his hands and i still couldn't hear a damn thing i saw the muzzle flash a rapid strobe in the dim light of my lamp, still hanging off my shoulder a distinctly red glare, I managed to get my feet under me in time to see Beads making her cautious way towards us a flare burning cheerily in her gloved hand her laser site cutting a brilliant red beam through the shadows that pooled around us, Bullet head reloaded his rifle from a nearby corpse, nimble fingers easily removing magazines from belts and pockets adding them to his own personal munitions pile, my right hand is still wrapped around the bent barrel of the shotgun fingers locked firmly in place i manage to pry them loose and get to my feet, an unfamiliar shakiness in my limbs has me a bit worried, and my lack of energy is a first, normally i don't sit for this long a time, i can see Beads talking gesturing and her mouth moving behind the faceplate of her helmet but i cant hear a thing, I'll need to take a moment to get the old healing program underway hopefully it can mend whatever is wrong with me, Bullethead grabs my arm, i didn't even see him do it and soon he (i think he's a "he") is dragging me down the tunnel, i spend some time staring at the sludge rolling past my ankles before we stop at last, my energy level is creeping back up to its usual platue, I tell them i need a few minutes, they seem to get the message cause Bullethead lets go of my arm and i manage to get to my feet and wander over to a convenient ledge just out of the "water" I take a moment close my eyes and thats when i start itching all over i can feel every bruise scrape and cut on my body, feel them itch and grow hot then pull closed.

When the itching stopped my legs felt steady and my energy level was back to its usual high and my ears had stopped ringing just in time to hear beads suggest that they leave me behind, I politely flipped her off as i got to my feet, a quick check showed that i hadn't lost anything and the blood had congealed on my lamp making the shadows lean in closer than i was strictly comfortable so i gave the glass a thorough scrubbing with my sleeve and managed to clear away some of the gunk causing my little angel to shine like new forcing the shadows back to their usual distance.

I was more than ready to move on at this point, the others had already moved ahead, so I wasted no time in jogging to catch up, they were staring down at the tiny screen of our PDA map to the "Underground" Bullethead didn't seem bothered by our lack of progress, mind you its hard to tell with him what with lacking a face and all, Beads was scowling as i peeked over her shoulder and took a gander at the map, seems we have about four more miles of rank, foul, slick, plain NASTY tunnel left. The "water" here was deeper than elsewhere as we found ourselves at the foot of a short incline where (hopefully) the going would be a bit smoother. My newly restored hearing caught the sound of a size twelve combat boot scraping against something unmentionable just up the "hill" as i nudged my companions and nodded up the way a figure made itself visible to use easily six feet tall dressed in plate armor that revealed his drug harness, fuck knuckles its a god damn Juicer.


	4. Chapter Three or One huuuuge let down

Huh thought that one out loud too cause now they are going for cover as the Juicer grinned a manic little smile and raised his heavy looking laser pistol (It was one of those designer weapons just for the drug addled bastards sporting a high frequency laser straddling a small pump action grenade launcher) my legs coiled into a half crouch as i sprang(sprung?) towards our apparent enemy, it was half way through the twenty foot leap that i got my first inkling that something was just not quite right with this picture.

That inkling being that he didnt just shoot me out of the air, seriously to clear the space between him and me i was airborne for about an eighth of a second I've seen a Juicer finish a magazine in that time (porn totally counts as reading material) I figured that i had gotten lucky and caught the bugger off guard, after all its not everyone who when confronted with a drugged out super soldier will jump on them, so my vibroblade leading the way I lunge, and instead of being shot out of the air i actually managed to reach him and swing my nasty little knife at his cleanly shaven head (planning to take a little more off the top). He doesn't dodge or weave or slap me out of the air or nothing he just (barely) gets his forearm guard between my blade and his hard little head, i cut a neat little groove into his armor and bash him upside the head with said limb (hardly life threatening at all) he manages to switch targets from my teammates to me but takes a moment to thumb the weapon stud, seem he doesn't want to waste a grenade at this range, and shoves me back a step with the now damaged arm guard bringing up his gun to put a hole in my pretty face, I manage to not be there when he fires off his laser with a sharp snap, of course his weapon's discharge takes out part of the tunnels roofing and pipe system sending down a cascade of water, sparks and debrise as piping is cut and valves rupture, though the fact i have the time to notice these things leads me to inkling number three.

On a lark i grab the barrel of his weapon and try to yank it free with no sucess, he moves with me and tries to bring his fist into the equation, i manage to deflect the gauntleted hand with my blade as we take a moment to dance, him swinging his fist and firing his weapon pointlessly into the walls and floor of the tunnel as i do my best to cut open his head finally i am able to land a glancing cut into one of his feeder tubes, which proceeds to spray absolutely nothing, its then i realize i am facing a Juicer wannabe, a fanboy with neither the cash nor the stones to actually get the proper conversion, though when my blade finds that lovely little bit of evidence to support my inkling his fist collides with my jaw and i am rocked back on my heels, my guess he managed to get his hands on some nasty little stim to beef up his not unimpressive physical skills cause your average squishy never manages to hit that hard, its at this point when bullet head makes his appearance grabbing the wannabe's weapon and forcibly separating it from his hand, guess he isn't stronger than our friend here, now separated from his gun he backs off a couple paces, draws a pair of sharp but unpowered knives and howls a battle cry, now unhappy that i don't get to try my hand at a real Juicer i step forward with all my magnet driven speed and swing at his head with a devastating haymaker that could knock down a brick wall, the effect is sudden and messy as his head is nipped clean from his trunk, battle tip number one: never shout a battle cry mid fight unless your swinging or shooting while you do it.

The ruckus from our little brawl didnt attract any attention, which led me to believe that our recently departed friend had probably been wandering around on his own (part of an initiation suggests Bullethead) probably meant to collect a trophy, proof of his "glorious" victories, I took the opportunity to collect a trophy of my own, his pistol/grenade gun thingy plus his spare E-clips (Pistol sized N.G. make five in all) and the three spare grenades he had stashed in his belt pouch, while rooting through his bag i discovered the source of his combat prowess, five chalky white pills (Beads identified them as crash a combat drug) that our unaugmented member snagged explaining that they might come in handy later.

Beads managed to clamber her way up the slick incline and was treated to our new view, compared to the last mile or so of ankle deep yech, the moldy walkways were a godsend, so instead of sloshing we got to squeak and squelch along on wet pavement, a vast improvement in my eyes, we got to enjoy almost a mile of clear sailing before we noticed the first signs of civilization, the squat six limbed deebee squatted over a pile of litter rooting around for...who knows what, upon spotting our(my) light it whirled around and proceeded to bark out mine! MINE! nnhawt yoors! MINE! as it crouched low on all six of its limbs using its rear most set to kick the trash pile behind its naked rubbery gray form, something about its single green eye or perhaps the wide mouth full of square teeth or the warbly bark I don't know, but it was the cutest thing i had ever seen and my good senses left me as I took a full two steps forward fully intent on petting it, Bullethead had to drag me away by my collar lest i lose fingers.

As we continued along i noticed we had begun going steadily down hill again, every now and then we ran into knots of those adorable six limbed deebees, though they seemed allot less bothered by our presence, infact most ignored us entirely, others moved out of our way as we approached, the sludge got deeper and ran swifter the further down we went, eventually we arrived at a tall heavily barred gate three sentries stood before the gate the one nearest us sat hunkered behind a mound of sand bags, over which peeked the barrel of a a large fifty caliber machine gun, the gunner loudly cycled the bolt of his/her gun and leveled it at us, the sharp ca-klack of the weapon alerted his/her two very large heavily armored companions who stepped forward and drew vibro-swords each as tall as they themselves (and they were BIG easily twelve feet tall) and stood ready to back up their gunner (who was much smaller than them).

The gunner cleared her throat and clearly called in a pleasant tenor, state your business or take a hike I don't feel like wasting bullets today. Bullethead took the lead and calmly explained in his neutral synthesized voice that we were there to do some shopping in the under market and wouldn't be staying long in their tunnels, the guardswoman mulled this over a moment looking us over (I guess she and the other two wore full helmets and faceplates) before shrugging and waving us through saying keep your nose clean and we wont have any problems.

The bruisers stepped aside, one of them hauling on a thick metal bar and shoving open a smaller door built into the gate, once we were through the door was closed and the bolt put back in place before the second gate was opened and we were treated to a view of a massive underground pool of clean water somehow separate from the muck and sludge of the tunnel just twenty feet behind us, wide board walks and platforms some free floating some anchored to the lake bed comprised the entirety of the under market. Deebees of all shapes and sizes roamed the walkways, Elves, Dwarves, Ape-kin, and dozens i couldn't name and lack the skill with words to describe. Bullethead lead the way, he(I think) seemed to know where we were going infact he seemed to be the only one who had any idea what we were going to get or who we were getting it from, ah sweating the small stuff is only a good way to get gray hairs and I'm not ready for those just yet thanks.

My new pistol weighs nearly as much as my goddamn rifle and having it stuck in my belt was proving uncomfortable, thankfully a street vendor had a holster for some kind of Borg pistol fit my gun nicely and i was able to swap for a couple of Bead's crash tabs fit on my belt and kept the damn thing from slipping, Beads is glaring at me guess i was think outloud...again ugh! Ah well i looped the damn thing through my belt and stashed my pistol right next to my vibro-blade, a fine parring indeed.

Before long we were standing without incident in front of a shop whose front was graced with about a thousand neon lights and tended to by a weird creature made of light with arms so long it could scratch the nose of God, just looking at the, whatever it was, was giving my a massive headache i juked out of the store with a muttered apology to the other two, once i was out of the shop and back on the boardwalk, and my head stopped throbbing like mad, I noticed a group of Orcs talking just down the way now spanish isn't one of my best languages (I have trouble with english some days) but i was able to pick out the words, skinny bork(?) and pin-hat, I can only assume they were talking about us, now orcs are big tough and mean anyone who ever read Lord of the Rings knows this, Orcs in the world however have access to high tech weapons and armor making them so much worse, their tendency to move in groups does not make for a friendly delivery mission for yours truly. Bullethead and Beads strolled out of the shop talking calmly, Beads had a small metal box in her hand(about the size of a ring box), as i was eavesdropping on the black haired Orcs, who took this opportunity to stop talking and nod in our direction i waved the pair of them over and shared my suspicion that perhaps the Orcs just down the street(boardwalk) may not have our best interest at heart, when Beads gave me the "I know your a Crazie, but are you crazy" look i sighed and outright pointed to the now somewhat startled Orc gang (nine Orcs in all) whom proceeded to approach our now nervous (cept me) group.

The gang leader (its always the biggest) strolled to the head of his group standing boldly before us in the rapidly clearing boardwalk, no one was going for their weapons just yet, though my fingers were itching to go for my gun (or knife its nice to have multiple short range options) he puffed out his chest and stroked his beard and growled a nice straight forward, "give me da box" Beads in a rather aplaudable show of stones replied "uh no" The Orc seemed somewhat startled by this sudden and direct response, confused he restated his, can we call it a request, demand maybe anywho, The Orc calmly informed us in broken english that we wouldn't get out of the tunnels alive, I guess bullet head knew my reaction to this would be violent so he clapped a solid metal hand onto my shoulder to keep me from doing anything stupid (I guess) for a few moments no one moved, no one spoke, and the market guard interrupted this rather dramatic moment by showing up enmass and demanding that we leave.

So here we are standing at an unfamiliar gate on the opposite side of town from where we entered, Beads spoke up asking if either of us knew where we were going to go from here, Bullethead stood quiet for a time and nodded that big dome head of his, well great and dandy i piped up cheerfully lets get back to Tani's so we can get paid i need to take a shower and money is a beautiful thing full of joy and wonder, plus it can buy copious amounts of *things*

Beads stared at me a moment before reluctantly agreeing, and informing us that if the Orcs know the tunnels they'll be tracking us down in short order if we don't hurry along. I admit the idea of running and gunning from nine angry Orcs through muck filled tunnels wreathed in wicked darkness kinda turns me on, but work comes before play and Tani would skin me alive if I was to lose her pretty box. So off we strolled through a new set of foul smelling tunnels, this one was a straight line no incline, no decline after about a hundred yards tunnels started opening up left and right forming a near endless maze of concrete, pipes and sludge that spans the entirety of Chi town, following after Bullethead's broad back through the gloom was boring and rather unworthy of mention, until we managed to find a ladder that apparently would take us up to the surface near Tani's this ladder was somewhat different then the last a straight hundred and twenty yard climb through a tunnel that would restrict even my agile movements rather hazardously, and my cunning ears caught the sound of nine heavy feet sloshing their way towards us, Bullethead ordered Beads up the ladder with the box as i drew my Vibroblade and pistol chambering a micro grenade into the under barrel launcher, re-thinking my earlier plan i stowed my vibro-blade palming the three spare grenades with an ecstatic grin told Bullethead to clamber his heavy ass up the ladder i have a plan.


End file.
